Love Me That Way
by Belle A Lestrange
Summary: RATED NC17. As soon as Sam leaves for College, Charlie is scared when Patrick heads for another breakdown. He confesses that all he wanted is to be loved the way Charlie loves Sam. It wasn't too much to ask, was it? All too soon, Charlie is faced with the decision of crossing over a boundary he had promised he'd never cross again. He wouldn't break his promise to Sam. Or would he?


**A/N: Hey guys this is my first time writing for Perks and I hope I did the characters some justice. I noticed there weren't too many interesting stories of Patrick and Charlie and so I wanted to add my little dream to the mix. This is set shortly before Sam comes back for the holidays at the end of the movie.**

**Pairing: Charlie x Patrick**

**Warnings: man on man sex, lemon, smut, sheer gayness, and hurt/comfort.**

* * *

><p><strong>Love Me That Way<strong>

**By**

**Belle A Lestrange**

Charlie stared at his type writer for a long time, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as his hands sweated at his sides. The urge to write about what had happened had bubbled within his blood and made his heart stutter in his chest so painfully it was difficult to breathe, and yet now, sat down on front of his typewriter, he barely had the energy to raise his hands up and tap his fingers across the gleaming silver keys. They felt as though they were weighed down by a force stronger than his own will power, but still the words he yearned to write burned in his brain. The ache in his chest grew and he tightened his fingers into fists before releasing them along with the breath he'd been holding.

He couldn't write something like that down surely? Someone would find it and make a mockery of him, wouldn't they? Wasn't it already mockery enough that he now had the memory imprinted in every fibre of his being as well as his memory? When he closed his eyes he could still feel his hands, his lips, and his touch. He wanted to write about it so badly and new that deep down his friend wouldn't judge him. So why couldn't he write it down?

He was scared, of course, plain and simple and the fact that he'd silently admitted such a thing relieved a little of the weight pressing down on his mind, but not all of it. Maybe if he just started, then the words would pour out of him like he dreamed they would. Like they did every time he had something he really wanted to say or remember or savour. This memory was definitely all of those things. He raised his stiff fingers and let the hover of the keys before slowly pressing down on the letters.

'_Dear Friend …_'

There, that hadn't been so hard, had it? Now to just continue with the thought and let the words flow freely.

~0~

Dear Friend,

I'm not really sure where to start so I suppose I will just start from the day when everything fell apart; it was the day Sam was leaving for College and I felt as though my already fragile word was crumbling right from under my feet. As I watched her drive away with Patrick tucked away in the passenger seat, I felt something hollow grow inside me and gnaw away at my insides. After my time at the hospital I had a long winter ahead of me to try and get 'good' again. I need to be 'good' for Sam and for Patrick. And for my mum and dad; now that they knew about Aunt Helen they wanted to be as supportive as possible. It was nice of them, especially when I was feeling so lost without Sam there to smile at me. Patrick had stayed up with Sam helping her to settle in during the first few days. He had decided to not go to college the same year. After what had happened with Brad and his mild bout of depression, he thought it would be better to just take a step back and focus on himself. I didn't mind so much. It meant that I would have at least one of my friends here with me.

Sam had come down to visit me a couple of times with Patrick while I was in the hospital but she had told me that she would only be able to be home for one week on the Christmas holidays. In a way I wasn't glad, because I was proud she was doing what she'd worked so hard for. We write letters to one another and I keep them all together in a box on my bookshelf where I used to keep my assignment books for my Literature class.

I tried my best to be 'good' and focus on my class, even taking up an extracurricular writing class that could help me to become a professional writer one day. I really hoped so because I needed to keep my promise to Sam; I needed to write a story about us. In the meantime while I was focusing on my studies and spending a lot of time in my house that was now void of both my brother _and_ sister. The emptiness ad loneliness had scared me before, because I always thought that my worst fears would be alive and laughing at me in the silent corners of the house, but slowly and surely they were fading away. It was like a small weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It made me feel better, that maybe I could be 'good' for a long time.

Around the same time that I was thinking these things, I'd started to notice something that made something break inside me. I noticed that Patrick was starting to get 'bad', just like I had been bad. Like he'd started to get around the time that he'd been caught by Brad's father and they'd been forced to break up. I'm ashamed to say that I wasn't able to notice the signs as quickly as I would have liked, but I still noticed it before anyone else did so I suppose that counted for something.

At least I hoped that it would.

I started going over to Patrick's house during my lunch breaks and before school if I had a free period first thing. His mum was more than happy to see me, I think she'd noticed that he was becoming more quiet at home or something, but whenever he saw me his face would split into a wide grin and he'd wind an arm around my neck and we'd go up to his room. Sometimes we talked all afternoon-long and into the evening when I would have to call my mum from their kitchen and ask if she didn't mind me having dinner at Patrick's. She said she didn't mind but sometimes I felt bad about not arranging it beforehand. Some nights he would be quiet and we'd pass a beer back and forth while watching a movie. The quietness was what scared me even more because it meant that I didn't know what Patrick was feeling. Sometimes he got that look on his face, like that night when he'd thrown himself against me and kissed me. The salt of his tears had stayed on my lips for the rest of the night.

Between the day I had gotten out of hospital and Sam's last visit, I had slept over at Patrick's a couple of times on a little roll out camping bed in his bedroom. That had only happened the first time, though, as he had a large double bed in his room and insisted that I should sleep in the bed next to him. That had made my stomach bubble at what he might mean but after a tense two hours lying as still as a statue in the bed with Patrick sleeping beside me, in which time he'd fallen asleep and I felt myself relax. I don't know why I'd been tense but maybe it was because I'd never slept in the same bed as someone else before.

I spent a very long time –I'm not sure how long –staring at his face and feeling the urge to cry. He was so beautiful –not beautiful like Sam was –but he was so beautiful in his strength and his personality and the way he was able to keep on fighting no matter how difficult everything got for him. I was glad I could be there for him. He looked so peaceful in that moment with his long dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks as they fluttered in his dreams. His dark hair was fanned out across the pillow and looked so feather-soft. I clenched my fingers into fists to stop myself from touching it. I didn't want to wake him, or freak him out if he did wake up, so I turned over onto my side, my back to him, and wriggled about to get comfortable before closing my eyes.

Sleeping in Patricks bed became pretty normal after that but when I fell asleep I would be dreaming that I was in Sam's bed on the other side of the all, lying against her soft pillows and watching her as she slept, and thinking of how smart and funny and beautiful she was, and how just being with her made me feel like the 'best' I'd ever felt. Although the more time I spent with Patrick I realised that I didn't need Sam to feel 'good'. Patrick was good company and I really wanted to be there for him. If I could help be there for Patrick properly this time, Sam would see just how much better I'd been getting and how nice I was helping her brother get through his 'dark phase'.

I kept Sam informed about Patrick and told her about all the times we went out for the day; or rather that I somehow persuaded Patrick to come out with me for a couple of hours just to get him out of the house. By this point I knew his mum was beginning to worry. I think my only possibly tool for persuading Patrick to get out was that having a year off was meant to be about adventure and exploring the world, not staying cooped up in his room and slowly making his way through beers.

I was happy that I had at least one friend to remain with me though, as I'd get to help Patrick. If he were at college who knew what he'd get up to on his own?

The weather was bitter when the Christmas holidays rolled around and I was sad that I wouldn't get to go to school for the literature classes, but other than that I was happy to have some time to myself to start writing up 'our story'. It wasn't going so well since I didn't know where to begin or what to write about, so I just wrote whatever came to mind, as I am doing right at this moment. I didn't mind the cold weather too much; it meant I could relax inside and wear woolly socks and jumpers that smelled constantly of fir trees and chestnuts. It was on this particular night –about a week before Christmas –when there was a low knocking coming from the front door. We all frowned at one another seeing as both of my parents, me and my brother and sister were accounted for. Who could have been knocking and at such a late hour?

"Would you get that for me Charlie?" my dad asked peering over the top of his glasses and smiled softly at me. I returned it before peeling myself off the carpet where I was sat as we watched Christmas programs on TV. I hurried down the small staircase to our front door and pried it open.

I blinked in surprise as I saw Patrick standing there, tall as ever, with his head bowed, a sombre expression on his face, and his hands stuffed deep into his pocket. He looked nervous and awkward. "Hi Patrick," I smiled softly but the look on his face made the smile drop off and bury itself in the snow.

A chill skated across my ankles. The smell of cold concrete and snow filled my nose.

"Charlie can we go for a walk?" he asked, his eyes barely coming up to look at me. I swallowed thickly. I didn't like when Patrick sounded like that because when he sounded like that it meant there would be a long night ahead of us of me trying to cheer him up and normally failing in that act.

"Uh … let me just ask my dad," I turned quickly and climbed a few steps before asking my dad for permission. He said it would be alright as long as I was home by eleven and if I was going to stay out to let him know by at least half ten. I grabbed my jacket, put it on and follow Patrick out the door.

It was quiet in the car as Patrick drove through town. I didn't know if he planned to drive anywhere in particular. I sat back in the passenger seat and listened the rumble of the engine and Patrick's heavy breathing before he finally broke the silence. "Sam called me this afternoon and yelled at me. She said that I shouldn't be hanging around you if I was going to make you depressed like I am." I didn't know what to say so I just kept quiet. "Do you think I'm that bad, Charlie?" he asked somehow making my name sound thick and lazy, like caramel. "I don't want to be bad, but I guess Brad messed me up more than I thought he did. I thought I was over this. I just –I want someone to love, is that so wrong? Why do I get attracted to people who can't be in a relationship with me?"

I shrugged a shoulder, "You accept that love that you thought you deserved," I murmured as we rode over a speed hump in the road. I turned in my seat and reached out to touch his hand that was on the gear-shift, "You deserve more than you think you do Patrick. You're a kind, smart, funny, wonderful guy and someone out there is going to be very lucky to have you love him."

Patrick pulled the car over onto the pavement and switched the engine off before staring down at his hand as though he didn't know what they were. "Why couldn't it be you, Charlie?" he asked in a whisper. I frowned over at him but kept my mouth shut. "Why couldn't I fall for someone like you who would literally just love to hold my hand on the way to class, who would love to stay on the phone whenever possible however long or short as possible?"

"I do all those things with you," I murmured as I squeezed his hand.

He quirked a week smile before sighing and shaking his head, "But it's not the same, really, is it? You're not in love with me. You're in love with Sam, and sometimes I watch you two and it breaks my heart that I could have had that if only I'd fallen for someone more like you."

I felt my heart jump in my chest at his words and his fingers tightened up around my own. I didn't know what to say, or if I should say anything. I didn't want to make anything worse. So I simply sat there, holding Patrick's hand and reaching over to hug him when his shoulders began to shake as he started crying. I undid my seatbelt and scooted over to wrap both my arms around him and hold him tightly as he shuddered and cried into his folded arms. It got to the point he was practically lying down in my lap, he was so far over the gear-shift. I stroked my hand up and down his back, the way mum used to do to me when I'd fallen down whilst playing and wouldn't stop crying. I wanted to comfort him but all the words that came to mind felt wrong. He sobbed and cried heavily until my jeans were soaked through.

Finally, I cleared my throat and tried to make the words come out, "P-Patrick?" my voice sounded wet and croaky, "Patrick it's getting late I think we need to get you home."

Patrick took a few moments to clear his throat out and stop crying as heavily as he had been. I could tell that his head probably felt hot and throbbing. I knew that my head felt that way when I had been crying a lot. He sat back in his seat and drew in long, shuddering breaths. He stared off out through the wind screen for a while, and in that time I thought that he'd forgotten about me. "I'm so alone, Charlie," he finally muttered, almost too quiet for me to hear. "I didn't realise how along until Sam went to college along with Mary-Elizabeth and Alice and … Well, I know you're not at college, but it's not like I can just waltz back into high school every lunch hour just to hang out with you." He snorted at himself and I felt my chest hurt.

I bit on my lip and tried to think, "Well … Maybe you could ask the principle to volunteer as an assistant or something? To help out with lessons because you're thinking of becoming a teacher?"

Patrick snorted again, "Like they would believe that after my last year."

I shrugged my shoulder, "Just say you had all summer to think about it. They can only say 'no'. If not, I'll come outside at lunch and we can walk around together."

"What about when it snows?" Patrick countered, his eyes narrowing slightly in the coldness of his car. His breath rose out before him and I only just noticed that the heater and engine had been turned off. With a confused shake of his head, the engine choked back to life and the heater hummed back on. I rubbed my hands together to get them warm again as Patrick started to talk again. "I give up, Charlie. I don't want to, but what's left for me?"

I felt like a goldfish as my mouth opened and closed without me saying anything. "Patrick," I began without knowing what I should say next, "I don't know what you want me to say to help you."

Patrick just shook his head and gripped the steering wheel tightly, before pulling out onto the road, "Nothing, Charlie. You've done enough."

We ended up not speaking for the rest of the drive back to his house.

As the tyres crunched on the gravel I felt a chill run through me. "Hey Patrick?" he hummed to show he'd heard me as he focused on reversing into his parents' drive. "Do you want me to stay over and keep you company tonight?"

He looked at me for moment, as though he wasn't sure if he was really there. Then every muscle in his body relaxed and his easy grin slipped back onto his face, "Sure, Charlie. I'd love for you to stay."

Half an hour later, after calling my mum from the phone in the kitchen, I was sitting in Patrick's room leaning back against his double bed watching a movie as we ate from a bowl of popcorn in between us. He hadn't said a whole lot since we'd gotten in. I was sitting there in a pair of his pyjamas which were far too big for me and a pair of his thick woollen socks that had warmed my feet up within moments. I'm pretty sure Patrick wasn't paying attention to movie. I think he thought I wanted to watch something so he put up with it. The credits had barely started to roll before he clicked his TV off and sighed, "Thank God!" before dropping his head back on the mattress and stretching his arms over his head. He tossed the remote to the floor, stood up and arched his back before throwing himself onto the bed. I sat awkwardly for a few minutes before getting up and flicking the light switch off. A moment later a soft golden glow filled the room from the bedside lamp.

I hesitated before he grinned over at me and thumped his arm against the pillow on the opposite side of the bed. I gave a weak smile before stumbling across the room and falling onto the soft mattress beside him. We laid there for a while, just lying side by side and staring up at the ceiling. I almost jumped when Patrick spoke again.

"Charlie, are you in love with Sam?" he asked softly.

I nodded my head and cleared my throat, "Yeah –I've never felt this way about anyone before."

He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, "Did you hate me after you let me kiss you?"

"Which time?" I asked slowly, not wanting to upset him. I felt butterflies flutter about in my stomach.

"The first time," he replied.

I turned my mind back to that night and closed my eyes to relive the moment; it had been a long, wet kiss and he'd broken down not long after and huddled over against my chest until he'd sobered enough to drive us both home. I didn't feel like I regretted it and I knew that the only time I did feel bad about it was when Sam had lectured me about it. I peeled my eyes open and turned to look at Patrick, my heart jumping when I saw that he had turned on his side and was looking at me. I shook my head slowly from side-to-side, "No, I didn't hate you for it."

We laid that way for a moment before, in one swift movement, Patrick was leaning over me with his hands running through my hair and his warm lips were on mine and kissing me gently. My heart pounded in my ears as I felt his weight shift a little over me and he drew away, his dark eyes heavily-lidded and looking down at me, as though waiting for me reaction. I couldn't react; his kiss was warm and soft and made my stomach knot. Not in the same way that Sam's had done –her kisses had made me soar through space –but Patrick still managed to leave me breathless. I licked my lips. I could still taste him. "P-Patrick?" I asked even though I didn't know what I was asking.

He shook his head before lowering himself down to kiss me again. It was just as good as the first and I felt myself relax into it a little, my arms snaking their way around his shoulders and my mouth moving against his. He was gentle as his fingers ran down over my shoulder. I was lost in another world entirely. I was only jolted out of it when I felt his cool hands on my stomach as he lifted my shirt up. I jerked away and frowned at him, my heart racing as I sat up straighter against the pillows. He looked at me gently, "If you want me to stop, just say so okay?" He reached out to touch me again but I shook my head and shifted a little further away.

"I can't do it, Patrick," I stated roughly, "I can't do that to Sam. She's your sister, why would you do that to her?" I asked, feeling braver all of a sudden. I needed to distract him.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped before he thumped his fists into the mattress and made me jump, "Because I want what she has!" he growled over at me before a sob pierced through his lips. It was an agonizing sound and it hurt my heart seeing the pain seize him again. I wanted to help him, I did, but what if he kissed me again? He sighed heavily, "I want what she always managed to get, whether it's long-term of a small moment in her life! She gets all forms of love and I get stuck with sneaking around and stolen kisses behind the bleachers and at the back of the library as we pass by one another! Why can't I just have someone whose sweet and caring and wouldn't mind being seen kissing me in public? Why, Charlie, Why can't I have what she has?"

He'd worked himself into quite a state as he dropped down onto his side, curled his legs up into himself and started to cry.

I felt lost all over again. I didn't know what to do. Should I call his parents? Or Sam? Would she know what to do? Or would that only make Patrick worse? I didn't want to be the cause of him being worse. I reached out and stroked a hand over his shaking shoulder, "Patrick?" I gave his warm skin a squeeze, "Patrick, come on, please don't cry." I know begging was child-like and a little stupid given the circumstances, but I just didn't want him crying. "I don't know why Sam has been luckier in finding love than you but I promise you, someone will come along who will love you for who you are. He will. He's out there I know it and I bet he's just dying to meet you."

Patrick peered up at me as if he knew I was stretching my imagination. It was true, I felt like I was but that wasn't to say that the man Patrick would fall in love with eventually, wasn't dreaming of loving someone kind and loving and fun to be around. "Why can't you love me the way you love Sam?" Patrick's broken voice jolted me out of my musings. I felt stumped. What could I say to that?

"I … Um … I don't know," I stuttered lamely, "I love Sam; you know I've always loved Sam."

Patrick nodded his head, "I know that, I know that you love her but … Can't you show me how much you love her?"

"W-what do you mean?" I asked swallowing thickly.

Patrick sat up a little straighter, "I want you to show me how you would love Sam. Love me just for one night the way you want to love Sam when she comes back home," he stared into my eyes and searched for something that I didn't think I had in me. "Please?" he whispered, trying to urge me a little more.

I didn't know what to say. Patrick really needed to feel like he was someone special to anyone at that moment but I didn't think that I could do that. I couldn't do that to Sam and I couldn't do that to Patrick. I didn't want to ruin everything again, like I had when I'd been with Mary-Elizabeth. I shook my head, "Patrick I can't. I don't want to cheat on Sam. She told me to wait for her until she came back for Christmas and that's what I plan to do. You know that."

Patrick sighed and turned his head away before he looked back at me, "I just want you to show me the love I deserve, Charlie, because God knows I won't be getting it anywhere else, now am I?" he countered and ran his hand through his messy hair. He reached for my hand and squeezed, his eyes brimming with tears, "Please, Charlie? You won't be cheating on Sam. You're not official yet, not until she comes back. And she'll still be your first time with a girl. Just … I can be your first and only time with a guy. I won't ask for more than the one night, but please? Just let me have this one night? To know what love can be like and that I won't have to envy Sam for it?"

"Shouldn't Sam be the first one to experience it?" I asked feeling embarrassed at the thought that he thought I'd make a good 'lover' in any respect of the term.

Patrick nodded, "Yes and in an ideal world you two would already be in a long-term committed relationship, but you're not, Charlie. Not yet anyway. At this point in time you're still technically single. All I'm asking is for one night where I can be loved and feel loved and not want to scream in frustration that no one loves me. Even if you think of Sam the entire time, I just want to … to feel like …" he trailed off and choked on his words.

"Loved?" I supplied, feeling the word stick in my throat. He nodded his head mutely. "You are loved, Patrick. If I was into guys, you would be the only guy I would want to be with."

"So why not be with me just for one night?" he asked more seriously, "Just for one night. Or are you scared of what might happen afterwards?"

I couldn't really deny that, now could I? I nodded my head stiffly and watched him for his reaction. "I don't want Sam to find out and hate me for letting you use me, like she did the last time. I don't want to ruin what we've only just fixed back together."

"Charlie, you saved me from getting beaten to death when Brad just stood there like a gormless ape. If I could fall for anyone right now, it would be you. I do love you but I know I can't have you. I just want one night between you and me and no one else will know."

"Your parents will know," I countered weakly.

Patrick shook his head, "They went out about an hour ago. Didn't you hear the door close or the car?" I could only shake my head as I watched him sigh gently, "Look, I'm not going to force you into anything Charlie. I was just asking as a favour. I just wanted one night in my adolescence where I was loved without drink or anything like that. I just thought you could show me what love felt like. Unconditional love, like what Sam is bound to get when she gets back."

I didn't know what else I could say. I looked at the broken look on his face and felt my stomach knot. He had made every point for doing this and having no one find out about it. I still didn't know how I felt as I leaned over and pressed a shy kiss to his cheek. "How far are you willing to go to feel loved?" I asked; shy, because I honestly didn't know how I was supposed to go about with any of this.

Patrick didn't say anything; he simply leaned over, cupped my face in his hands and stopped my rambling with his warm wet tongue slipping into my mouth. My heart lurched at the feeling as he rolled me down onto the bed and leaned his weight down on top of my chest. I gasped into his mouth, swallowing his flavour and humming as he aligned our bodies together. My whole body started humming as his hands touched me, his legs sliding between my own and his hardening erection pressing against me. He was burning up with desire as he touched me and I could feel it dance across my skin like electric shocks. I gasped out as he tugged on the bottom of my shirt and bunched it up so he could run his warm hands over my quivering stomach. "P-Patrick?" I murmured as his rutted against me, his mouth and teeth grazing down my neck, making my body flush warm.

"Shh," he murmured as he nipped at my earlobe and lowered himself to tweak at my nipple. I gasped and frowned at how much I'd seemed to enjoy it. "I'll make it good for you, Charlie, I promise."

Cold dread sank down in my stomach and I froze, "Are you … Are you going to top or am I?"

Patrick chuckled lightly as he looked down at me and brushed my hair out of my eyes. "We can do it whichever way you want. I normally bottomed so I've never topped. I'm not sure you're ready to top and I think your first time topping should be with someone you love with all your heart." His words weren't lost on me. Even though he may have been in love with me, even briefly, he knew I wouldn't love him the same way. He knew I loved Sam with all my heart. For one night he wanted to love and be loved.

I could give him that.

I spread my legs a little wider beneath him and my breath hitched when he pressed himself up against me and gently rocked his hips back and forth, making me a little harder beneath him. "What if it hurts?" I winced as my voice cracked and felt dread spiral up in my chest and block my throat. I felt like I was being suffocated. I didn't want my first time –with a guy! –to hurt but I knew that it would.

Patrick caressed my stomach with a large, soft hand and I felt heat pool south. "I'll be as gentle as possible," he breathed as he dipped in and made me melt into another kiss and rocked his hips in between my legs. I hadn't felt this turned-on since I'd first kissed Sam.

I almost froze when I felt the waistband of my borrowed pants slip down over my hips, exposing my penis to the warm air of the room and the prickling of Patrick's hair against my thighs. He rubbed against me and it felt exciting and forbidden all at the same time. My stomach was doing flips as Patrick's mouth moved away from mine, down my neck and peppering down my stomach before his breath skimmed over my dick. I could myself shake as his smoothed his hands over my thighs and the tip of my penis touched his cheek. I couldn't look down at him, I felt too embarrassed so I simply stared up at the ceiling. His hands wrapped around my cock and I felt my body flush as he brought it upright and his breath skimmed over it. It felt so sensitive and I secretly wanted him to touch it more, or do something –anything –to stop my mind from over-working every detail of what was happening.

And then he slipped his lips around me and I was lost in a cloud of black spots.

I let a soft 'Oh' come out of my mouth as I felt the burning hot wetness of his tongue lap at my head and take me in a little deeper. I'd never felt such velvety heat from anything before and as Patrick gently sucked on me I felt my breath escape from my lungs. I felt my body vibrate as he swallowed me down deeper and moaned low in his throat, the feeling vibrated through me, stimulating me even more. I could feel myself quivering as his head of dark hair bobbed up and down in my lap, making me feel madder and madder, especially when his fingers dug into my hips and made them rise up so I slid all the way down his hot throat.

I slipped into a world of blurriness and stars and the feeling of my knuckles clutching the bed sheets so tightly that they hurt.

I wanted to gasp out and pant but I felt as though my lungs weren't working properly as he released me with a soft wet 'pop' and then lapped up at my leaking penis with his burning tongue. His heavy lidded eyes looked down at me and I was compelled to look at him. He looked so beautiful with the glowing lamp behind him and he glowed like an angel as he eased my legs further apart and drew me to the edge of the bed in one easy motion. I felt tense and was trembling as his breath tickled over my balls and down my crack and he flicked his tongue over them. "Are you ready?" he murmured as he nipped at my buttocks. I made a strangled noise that sounded like a 'yes' as he pried my tense cheeks apart. I tensed and he chuckled lightly. "Relax, Charlie, I'll make it good for you I promise."

I trusted in his words, so much so that I felt like I was flying when I felt the velvet softness from his tongue breech me and tease at my entrance. My knuckles flashed white again and I almost burst a blood vessel in gripping the sheets so tightly. It felt so strange and yet I wanted more that the teasing. "P-Patrick …" I gushed out as his tongue slipped away from me.

"I need you wider, Charlie. It'll feel uncomfortable for a little bit but just try to enjoy it, okay?" he mumbled quietly as he sucked in his fingers. It was a gorgeous sight to watch between my knees.

"Just … Be gentle okay?" I choked out as I strained to see him.

He nodded his head, "When am I anything but?" he grinned wolfishly down at me before pressing a tender kiss to my abdomen.

I didn't realize I had been holding my breath until his finger breached me and the air whooshed out of my lungs. He hushed me and told me to relax and I tried but the thought of his long, tan fingers slipping inside of me felt so surreal. It shouldn't have made me want more but other than seeing stars I could see how much Patrick needed this and he was making it feel so good! A panting noise filled my ears and it took me a while to realize that it was me, panting heavily as Patrick worked his finger inside my ass.

He sucked on a second one and gently pushed it inside me and my breathing came out heavy and raspy. The moans kept slipping out and I felt so embarrassed as Patrick kissed along my thighs again. I think he was trying to keep me calm.

He tried a scissoring motion with his fingers and that soon had me melting into the mattress, the pleasure rippling through me and drawing me closer to the edge. The scary thing was –well, it wasn't too scary now that I think about it –but I really wanted to jump over that edge and discover what lay beneath.

As soon as he added three fingers I was flying –and then when he slipped them out and the cold air greeted me, I came crashing back down. I jerked my head up, "W-What are you doing?" I stammered, my tense muscles quavering as he stepped out of his pyjamas bottoms and kicked them away.

"I'm not going in you dry, Charlie," he breathed in a husky whisper as he reached into the drawer beside his bed. I grimaced at the small bottle of lube in his hand and the small foil square in his fingers.

I shook my head hastily from side-to-side before I'd even realised when I was 'no' to. "No … D-Don't use that."

He frowned heavily for the first time that night, "What do you mean? I have to."

I continued to shake my head as I scooted to the end of the bed and lowered his hands to his sides and took the condom away from him along with the bottle. I locked my eyes onto his and I heard his breath hitch for a change. "You wanted to know what it felt like to be loved the way I want to love Sam?" He nodded mutely, "Well, if we could do it without any bad things happening, I wouldn't use that," I nodded at the condom, "So, since nothing bad _can_ happen between you and me … Don't."

His hand trembled inside my own and I watched his eyes become shinier in the lamplight. "Charlie," he breathed out as though he couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't either. But Patrick wanted –needed –to be loved so unconditionally for one night and I knew I needed to be the one to give him what he wanted and needed. He dropped the condom to the floor and threaded his fingers through my hair and kneeled between my legs to kiss me.

I suddenly became very aware of how naked we were and how there was no turning back now, not even if I had wanted to.

Patrick was going to make love to me tonight; not fuck, not sex, not the raw animalistic madness. It was going to be the slow sort of love-making that would leave us both glowing afterwards.

At least I hoped it would.

He pressed me back down onto my back and I relaxed as much as I could as I heard him suck on his fingers and then spit on something. I didn't look but I did gasp as he coated my arse with his saliva-slick fingers and dipped them inside my tight body a couple of times to prepare me. I trembled at his touch, feeling drunk on him.

Drunk on Patrick –I liked that.

I trembled under his grip as he pressed the tick of his hard-on against me and he glanced through his messy hair at me, "Ready?" he breathed out and I nodded mutely, crying out sharply as he eased his head inside of me and waited a few beats before slowly slipping in a little and then back out. I knew he wasn't in even half the way yet, but it took a while to adjust. He waited a few moments whilst I adjusted and then he picked up the rhythm again, breaching all my pain and pleasure boundaries in one go. I gasped and latched onto his shoulders as he leaned over me and slid himself all the way inside, pressing my legs back as he did so.

The pain shot through me and burned, it was far too incredible a pain to be ignored and I wouldn't have done if it hadn't been from the pleasure radiating through me. Patrick grunted against my neck as he slowly picked up a slow, steady pace. I trembled and clenched around him, making him hiss and gasp out before biting at my neck. As soon as I felt adjusted enough, I raised my hips a little and mumbled, "M-Move."

"Are you sure?" he grunted over me as he braced himself up on his arms, his body blocking the light and making me tremble, my legs spread wide on either side of him. I nodded my head and as he steadied himself he angled slightly differently and drove into me. I gasped and cried out again, the pleasure spiking through me like a lightning bolt. Apparently this was a very good thing, as every time Patrick slid back in me at that angle the pleasure shot through me, over and over and over again until I could see sweat was gleaming on his cheeks and stars dancing in front of my eyes.

He rocked his hips in short; sharp thrusts making me groan and arch into his hips every time they drove down into me. I even felt the urge to wrap my legs around his waist and draw him deeper inside me. I tried not to though as I was enjoying the pleasure too much to pay much else attention. It felt so good. I was scared I'd started foaming at the mouth, with the feeling of being so filled up with nothing but Patrick and having him pound inside me and make me weak and tense all at the same time. I tried rocking my hips to match his thrusting and that drew long, choked moans out of his mouth. "God, Charlie," he grunted out as he held my thighs tightly, "You're so hot and tight!" he practically cried out himself as he started to move faster and faster inside me.

I could feel something bubbling up inside me and it headed south straight away. Oh God, was this going to be …? Already? I clutched at Patricks arms and rocked my hips against him harder, dragging him into me over and over again, the slickness of his dick wetting me even more as he pumped into me. "P-Patrick!" I cried out, "I think I'm c –Oh!" I didn't get anything else out as stars blitzed my vision and a hot stream of my own cum shot up between us and splattered against my torso, a small speck landing on Patricks chin. I blushed heavily, feeling both ashamed and embarrassed at his thrusts still a little as he chuckled, the vibrations running down and inside me. It made me clench around him even more, even though all my energy seemed spent. I cracked an eye open and grimaced as Patrick licked at his chin and grinned down at me. "Oh, Patrick no! That's gross!" I shielded my face with my arms and subconsciously tightened even more around him and made him gasp out.

"Watch it, Charlie, or you might snap it off," he grinned down at he lowered himself over me, the slick, cool cum, sticking our bodies together like glue as he rocked his hips into me, jerking my head back as I moaned. "Besides," he murmured low enough to make me peak through my arms, "You taste delicious," he grinned before he lurched forward and thrust his hot tongue into my mouth. I was so shocked, I gasped and inevitably deepened the kiss, my arms winding around his neck and his around mine, drawing us closer together. I raised my legs until my knees would have been pressing into my chest if Patrick hadn't been there instead. When he started to move again, hitting my sweet spot almost every time, I was suddenly all too hot and moaning too loud and quietly begging him to make love to me over and over again.

I couldn't help it as he pulled back to hover over me and rammed deep inside me, to a place that no one had ever gone and never would again. I could feel the blood sluggishly running south to my own spent cock again but I ignored it, so that I could look up at Patrick's beautiful face as it contorted as an orgasm exploded in his body, and inside of me. He came hot and heavy, his sweaty body jerking and lurching above me. I reached out and dragged him down onto me so I could hold him steady, breathing in his sweat and the heady scent of both of our spent bodies and cum as it hung in the air. The awkward curve of his few last thrusts felt light and relaxed as he slowly slipped his spent penis out of me.

The cold air whooshed against my raw arse and I cringed as the feeling of Patrick's cum spilling out of me and onto his duvet cover. I rolled onto my front, wincing at I crushed my spent penis beneath me and turned my head to see the look of completely euphoria and adoration clouding over Patrick's beautiful, sweaty face.

He looked so peaceful and breath-taking, it made me feel so good I was able to make him look and feel that way.

I licked at my lips nervously, suddenly hyper-aware over what we'd just done and how amazing it had been and how it could never be repeated again. I couldn't say any of that. I couldn't ruin the moment for him. "P-Patrick?" I winced at the stammer in my voice. He cracked open an eyelid and looked at me, "Can I … er … Clean myself up?"

Patrick chuckled and rolled over onto his front and pulled himself into an upright position as though his whole body was heavy or stuck in toffee. He stood up on wobbly legs and held out his large hands for me to take. I grasped them and he pulled me up to me feet. The pain shot through my arse and I grit my teeth together, clenching my cheeks tightly. He shook his head and with a firm hold, massaged my thighs and got me to relax a little. "You need to clean it up otherwise it'll hurt worse. Wait there, I'll get you a wash-cloth." He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and came back with a damp cloth and motioned for me to turn around. I complied and froze when he slipped the cold cloth between my cheeks and slowly started to clean me up. His touch was still soft and gentle and it made me relax even more, the soothing coldness making the hot pain ebb away and I leaned back against his strong, lithe chest. He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck and then tossed the cloth away. "There you go," he smiled softly at me before bending down and kissing me gently on the lips. It was sweet and warm and unhurried.

It was Patrick personified in a kiss.

"Thank you," I managed to murmur as he bent down to dress himself. I couldn't help but notice how large he was even when he was soft. I felt myself blush and turn away until he was fully clothed and then helped me to claw my bottoms on over my hips.

He stood up behind me and wrapped his arms around my chest, burying his nose against the nape of my neck. I didn't know what else I could do for him at this point so I brushed my arms over his and leaned around to kiss his lips shyly. He smiled at me as though he couldn't quite believe what had happened. In a way I couldn't quite believe it either. It still felt like a hazy dream but I know it had been real and it had been pure magic to see Patrick so beautiful and at peace with his life. Without saying anything we cleaned up what little mess there was, mostly turning the duvet around so that the wet patch was in the further corner, and then slid underneath the covers.

It was impossible to stay on opposite sides of the bed after the magic that we'd felt together. It was still technically night time anyway, so Patrick sidled up behind me, an arm tucked under my neck and spooned me, his other arm fastened around my waist. We laid there in his bed not saying anything and gently breathing in and out, both of us basking in the after-glow of our love-making. I didn't bring up Sam and Patrick knew that she was on my mind and didn't see the need to discuss it just yet. What would the point be in ruining the moment? We had said all we needed to say and in the morning he would drive me home and we would carry on as though it hadn't happened, even though we would both look back on the night with nostalgia and tenderness. I just hoped I had given Patrick what he had craved.

I shivered and my breath hitched as I felt Patrick's fingers lazily tracing a pattern over my bare shoulder blades. It made my skin tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. I squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back, a lazy haze settling over us like a warm cotton wool blanket.

Soon after that we fell into a much needed and restful sleep.

The following morning I drifted back awake to the hazy, muffled sounds of voices coming from downstairs. The depth of the voices made it sound like Patricks' parents and so I let my eyelids slip closed again and burrow my face into the pillow. It was nice and felt so soft against my cheeks I didn't want to move. I rolled over onto my other side and my breath caught in my throat. Patrick was lying opposite me, close enough to touch with his hands folded in between us. His black hair was fanned out over the cream pillow and looked especially shiny in the morning light peaking in through the curtains, like a bird's feather; sleek and shiny. I watched him sleep, admiring him up close for the first time in what felt like forever. His tan features still glowed like they had last night, only this time his cheeks had long shadows running down them from where his long black lashes obstructed the light, and his full lips looked so soft I bit down on my own to suppress the urge to lean over and kiss him.

He looked so angelic lying there next to me I didn't have the heart to wake him up and break the spell.

Instead, I slipped my hand into his limp one and held it until he woke up.

When he did eventually wake up, he stretched his arms out over his head and rolled over to look at me, a dreamy smiled on his face. He gave my fingers a squeeze and murmured a soft, "Good morning Charlie."

I didn't know what to say. My mouth opened and closed uselessly. "I think your mums making breakfast downstairs," I murmured gently, my stomach giving a small grumble as Patrick sat up and dragged his shirt on over his head.

"Sounds perfect," he grinned as he rolled himself out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to give me some privacy whilst I dressed. As soon as I heard the bathroom lock click into place, I dragged myself away from the bed we'd slept in and made love in and shuffled into my rumpled jeans and shirt. As soon as my feet were warm inside my socks and I was tugging my jumped on over my head, Patrick reappeared and ruffed his hands through my hair, "Come on, Charlie, otherwise there won't be any pancakes left!" He hurried down the stairs and I listened as he greeted his parents, no doubt in the best mood for weeks. I held back for a few minutes, feeling both happy that I was the cause for all this and confused at my own disappointment for his nonchalant attitude. What had I been expecting, more kissing and cuddling? I shook my head and told myself I was being dumb. It had been for that one night and now it was back to normal, just like we'd agreed.

So why did it hurt so bad when he was able to do it so effortlessly?

"Charlie! Hurry up! The pancakes are getting cold!" That shout jerked me out of my musings and with numb, heavy legs I dragged myself down the stairs and forced myself to eat the breakfast laid before me even though I wasn't hungry anymore, and nod along to Patrick's half-truths when his mum asked what we'd been up to the previous evening after they'd gone out. It was the longest breakfast I had ever eaten and I was all too happy when the moment came when I could hug his mum and dad goodbye with the promise that I would be back soon for dinner, and stuffed myself into the passenger seat of Patrick's car.

I waited for him to buckle up in the driver's seat and turn the engine on. I stared off at his house at he pulled out of the driveway and started cruising slowly along the sleet-slick roads to my house. "Are you alright, Charlie?" he eventually asked as he turned a corner in the road, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

I nodded my head and mumbled a tired, "Yeah."

"Are you sure? You seemed really quiet at breakfast this morning," he observed.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I guess I didn't get much sleep last night."

Patrick, to my surprise, let out a bright laugh that tugged at my stomach, "Well it was a very long night wasn't it?" he looked at me for a brief moment and winked.

"So … You don't regret it?" I hedged awkwardly.

He shook his head, sobering up almost instantly, "How could I possible regret the best night of my life to date?" I shrugged my shoulders as we rounded yet another corner, my home coming up really soon and my stomach dropping through my shoes and into the road below the car. "Charlie?" he reached over and poked my thigh, "Do _you_ regret it? Is that why you were so quiet this morning?"

I shook my head heavily and winced, a headache blooming up behind my eyes. "No! Of course I don't regret it I just … I got confused this morning that's all. Like you acted as if it wasn't a big deal. You didn't say anything and it worried me."

"I'm sorry," Patrick said and he meant it. He squeezed my hand again and then slipped them both back onto the steering wheel. He was silent for a few moments after he pulled into my driveway, turned the engine off and leaned back in his chair, "Do you … This won't change anything between us will it?" he cast a timid glance at me, trying to gauge my reaction.

I shook my head weakly from side-to-side, "No of course not. We're perfect, Patrick."

He gave me a lazy smile and as I turned to reach for the car door, he grabbed my hand and stopped me, "Wait!" I turned in my chair and held my breath, worried about what was to come next. Our eyes locked together as he whispered, "As soon as you leave this car it's back to the way we were before, right?" I nodded my head mutely, my insides twisting together. "Then let me have one last moment of weakness, okay?" I barely had time to nod again as I felt his fingers thread through my hair and draw me closer, my air escaping and filling his lungs as he kissed me again, his soft, full mouth working gently against mine in a deep, passionate kiss. The last kiss we'd ever share together. I drank in as much of Patrick as I could before we gently broke apart and our lips glistening with one another. His eyes looked glazed over, just like I knew mine were. He gripped my hand in his and squeezed, "I do love you, Charlie. I just want you to know that."

I squeezed his hand back, my heart throbbing in my chest as I smiled softly at him, "I know, Patrick. I'm just glad I got to show you I could love you too."

His face split into the brightest smile I'd ever seen on his face and my heart soared. He really was beautiful. The 'clunk' of the door opening felt like the end to both of us as I slipped out of the car and raised a hand in a silent salute. I knew we'd see one another within a few days and no doubt talk on the phone in the next twenty four hours but at that moment I just wanted to get up to my room, sit down at my desk and write about the most amazing night of my life so far.

I just hoped that my first time with Sam would be just as amazing, and that I could make her feel as good as I'd made Patrick feel, and in turn how good he had made me feel. They both deserved the best, and I was glad I'd eventually be able to help the both of them let go of their demons. Especially since they'd both helped me to confront mine.

I know what I did was wrong and I may have messed up big. I love Sam with all of my heart and I just wanted to show Patrick the love that he could get one day if he looked hard enough.

I can't tell anyone else this, but I knew you'd understand. At the very least I hope you will.

Love always,

Charlie.

~0~

Looking down at the pages filled with black type he let out a loud sigh and stretched himself out over the back of his desk chair and unwound the kinks in his back. He released the air in his lungs and shuffled the pages together into a neat little stack before swiping an envelope off the end of his desk and stuffing the entry inside.

On the front he quickly scribbled out the date and 'To Friend' on the front of the envelope, just like he had done when filling out his numerous journals.

No one else would read those words but he had needed to tell someone, even if it was his friend on paper. But now that they were out he felt as though the guilt had dripped away from his shoulders. Not entirely but it was a lot lighter than it had been earlier that morning when he'd walked in front waving goodbye to Patrick in the driveway.

With a click of his tongue he stood up from his chair and licked the envelopes seal before stashing it behind his slowly growing book collection. No one would find it, not unless they tore his room apart. He didn't really care about anything though. He felt good –really, really good for the first time since Sam had left. He was jerked out of his musings by his mother's voice calling out, "Charlie! Dinner's ready!"

With one final look at the concealed letter and the row of books in front of it, he turned and left his room and his secret behind, and went back to life as normal where he would eat his mums cooking, watching Christmas specials on TV stringing popcorn with his brother and sister, and think about when Sam would be back for the holidays and how beautiful she'd look when he saw her again.

He really did feel that he could have loved Patrick.

But he knew deep in his heart, that he'd always love Sam more.

**THE END.**

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this long one-shot and I hope you let me know how I did. Lots of Love! Belle x**


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